


Now I've Got You In My Space

by stylesforstiles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Harry is a singer, I hope they go on the real show one day, Louis is a dancer, M/M, and Dirty Dancing references, and fluffy sex things, and tons of banter, banter is my favorite thing, because obviously, there is tons of fluff, those are very important and necessary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:24:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesforstiles/pseuds/stylesforstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson almost met on X-Factor</p><p>They meet on Dancing With The Stars instead</p><p>An Au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I've Got You In My Space

X-Factor

 

Louis fidgeted with his tie again, running his hands down to the end and giving it a tug. Hannah smacked him in the shoulder, startling him out of his trance.

“Stop it; you’re bloody well making _me_ nervous!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, dropping his hand to his sides. He stuffed them in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet.

He needed to get it together, this was his big chance. He knew that he wasn’t the best singer, but what he lacked there he made up for with his charisma; backed with almost an entire life time of various kinds of dance lessons. He had most recently taken up ballroom on his mother’s wishes to accompany his sister to something she was finally interested in, and he had to admit, he loved it.

But he wanted to be a _star._ That was his real dream.

He surveyed the crowd as he whistled the song he was going to sing under his breath, finally landing on a boy that was being interviewed by the X-Factor crew. He tilted his head to the side taking in the head of curls, bright eyes and cheeky smile.

He looked like he had what it took to be a star.

Louis wondered how far he would make it.

He shrugged it off, shuffling a little closer to his dream.

…

 

After Louis didn’t make it through his audition he simply refused to have anything to do with X-Factor, stubbornly boycotting it at all costs, but he did continue to shine in his ballroom lessons, and soon enough he and his sister were actually competing; and they were good. Like really, really good.

Good enough to get scouted for a newly formed reality show, Dancing With The Stars.

Which interestingly enough was created by his old arch nemesis, Simon Cowell.

Sometimes life had a funny way of working itself out.

 

*

 

Harry’s whole life was turned upside down after he had won X-Factor. Sure, he had thought he would do pretty well once he had made it through boot camp, but he really didn’t think he would win. But he _did_ , and his career took off faster than a speeding bullet, and before he knew it he was being groomed for the media and told that ‘no Harry, maybe we should have you date a few high profile women right now, it’s not the time to tell people you’re gay, you’re just starting out!’

Which is exactly how his life continued on; no one listening to him and what he wanted in all aspects; the kind of music he wanted to make, the people he really wanted to date, the clothes he wanted to wear.

Each day it was dragging him down a little more, when finally, after his third album was declared a flop, he threw all caution to the wind and snogged a bloke in public after a drunken night out and continued his rebellion when he got home with a twitter rampage where he came clean about his sexuality.

When he got up the next morning he packed his bags and ran off to LA, where he decided to lay low for the next couple of years until the curse of ‘Harry Styles, teenage sensation’ was finally put to bed.

He had kept himself active in the music world, mostly staying behind the scenes and writing songs for other people, but was once again getting the itch to put something out for himself. He spent a frenzied weekend recording demos and sent them off to his manager with a long, rambling email attachment that he probably shouldn’t have written after consuming half a bottle of whiskey. But he hopes he got the point across.

…

He woke up with a start, blindly reaching on the bedside table for his phone that was set to the saxophone riff from Jason Derulo’s Talk Dirty. He still hasn’t forgiven his sister for this seemingly unfunny prank, but he also hasn’t changed it either. Perhaps his subconscious was preoccupied with booties that need explaining.

“Hello?”

“Ah, there he is, the poetic drunk, Mr. Harry Styles himself,”

Harry groaned, blinking at the time. “Ben, why the hell are you calling me at five in the morning, did you forget there was a time difference all of a sudden?”

“As your manager, Harry, I make myself available to you at all hours of the day. Even when you’re drunk off your arse and sending me demos at five in the morning _my_ time. Which by the way, were amazing.”

Harry sat up quickly, sucking in a hopeful breath. “Yeah?”

“Course, you always sound amazing, and we will definitely get to work on that, but it’s not why I called.”

Harry worried his teeth on his thumbnail. “Oh? What’s up?”

“Hmm, now that I think about it, this would tie in really well with a new album." There was a moment of silence before he continued. "So anyways, we got an offer for Dancing With The Stars,”

Harry choked on a laugh. “Dancing with—what?! Why?”

“Because, everyone loves a comeback story, kiddo,”

“Excuse me; I am not a comeback story!” Harry paused and side eyed the empty whiskey bottle lying next to a pile of his clothes. “Okay, maybe I’ve had a few rough years, but I’m not down and out, I work!”

“Harry, you haven’t cut your hair in over a year. You own two pairs of jeans. Your t-shirts, the few of them you have, are starting develop holes—“

“Those are fashionable holes, they were already there, and my hair has never looked more luxurious I will have you know, and…” Harry trailed off. Alright, perhaps he was turning into a bit of a hippy. He should hear this out at least. “ _Fine_. What’s the catch?”

“Okay, so they pitched me the idea, and I think it will be good for you and they think it will be a ratings smash, and now if you record a new single and release it before the show, yeah this could be amazing, Harry.”

He drummed his fingers on the bed impatiently. “That’s all fine and well, but you seemed to have missed the part where you tell me exactly what it is I’m signing up for,”

“Well they want to you to dance with a male. You and a male dancer. Are partners. You’re going to be partners.”

Harry fell back against the pillow, feeling a bit light headed. “That is a lot more than a comeback, Ben. And did you conveniently forget I have two left feet?”

“That’s why you’re paired with a professional. You’ll be fine, Harry.”

Harry shook his head at the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So, you basically told them yes already.”

“Basically. What are good mangers for?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Ha, that’s funny kid. Just remember who stuck with you all these years.”

He sighed, rolling onto his side. He stared blankly at the guitar propped up against his closet. His fingers itched to play it again. His fingers itched to be back in the spotlight.

“Alright, when do you need me?”

“Get yourself on a plane pronto. I want to record this single and have you spruced up in time for your first rehearsal for the show.”

London, he thought. He hadn’t been home in over a year.

He rolled out of bed and grabbed the lone pair of jeans he owned since the other pair finally met its demise, pulling them up as he fumbled around his closet, haphazardly grabbing one of the many plaid button downs.

Let the resurrection of Harry Styles begin.

 

*

 

They all sat about the rehearsal space in various states of dress (and undress in some cases), ready to practice their first full group number since last season. The happy chatter bubbled all around Louis.

He hopped up onto the window sill, nudging his sister where she leaned up against the wall next to him. “So, what do you reckon? You gonna to be stuck with a rickety old pensioner since you won last season?”

She leaned down in a stretch, glaring at Louis out of the side of her eye. “You’re praying, I’m sure,”

Louis scoffed, peeling the sticker off the side of his shoe that Niall had put there weeks ago after one too many pints at the pub. He would have kept it, but it was a giant cock after all. He could be somewhat professional at work when necessary. “Sister dear, never in a million years, you are my fiercest competition here. Someone has to keep me on my toes.”

“Attention everyone, we have your partner assignments ready.”

Lottie bolted back up as Louis jumped down off the ledge, their boss Simon Cowell’s booming voice echoing out into the room. When he spoke, you _listened._

 He paced the room, the sound of his heeled boots clicking on the freshly waxed floor. “As you know, we lost one of our long time judges Cheryl Cole last season. Since I couldn’t find anyone up to my standards to replace her, I will be filling in for the time being.” He paused in the middle of the room, eyeing everyone up, as if they dared to argue with him. He nodded, snapping his fingers at Niall for the papers he held in his hand. “Excellent. Here is this season’s roll call,”

Louis winked at Niall who rolled his eyes in return. Having been with the show as long as Louis as the charismatic host, he was also familiar with Simon’s mood swings. As in there was only one; slightly disgruntled and irritated.

Louis listened intently as the names were rattled off.

“Alright, Jade; we have you paired with pro footie player Liam Payne.” Everyone whistled as Simon walked over to hand her the headshot. “Olly, you’ve got Ms. Perrie Edwards, reality TV star; Leigh-Anne, my lovely, you are going to be with Ed Sheeran, who is the Caesar Milan of the cat world.”

Louis stifled a laugh at the horrified look on her face, which was soon rivaled by Jesy’s when she was handed a picture of Mr.Bean. Louis elbowed Lottie, whispering low, “Looks like you got out of the pensioner duty.”

Zayn and Matty were up next, oddly enough matched up with a suitable pairing; Lou Teasdale, tattoo artist to the stars, and super model Cara Delevingne. How unfair.

Lottie was grumbling under her breath when Simon finally reached them, shoving pictures into both of their hands.

“And lastly, we have the Tomlinson’s. Lottie, you’ve got the pleasure of dancing alongside radio host Greg James,” he turned to Louis, a tiny smirk appearing on his lips. On no, this couldn’t be good. “And Louis, you have current comeback kid, Harry Styles.”

The whole room immediately went silent, all eyes now on Louis. He gripped the photo in his hands, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry; did I mishear you, sir?”

Simon gave him a flat look. “Why would you mishear me, I’m pretty sure you heard me just fine. Harry Styles. He’s yours.”

“But…he’s a guy,”

Simon slowly crossed his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying you’re incapable of teaching a man how to dance, Louis?”

He coughed awkwardly. “Well, no, but—“

Simon clapped his hands. “Good. We start next week. It’s going to be a ratings hit, Louis, don’t disappoint me.”

He turned and marched towards the exit and snapped at Niall once again, who bounced up to follow at his heels, mouthing ‘drinks later’ at Louis before disappearing out the door.

Louis stood there dumbfounded, staring blankly at the photo in his hand. The rest of the team clamored around him, his sister rubbing his back in comfort. “Lou, you can totally do this, you heard him, it will be a ratings hit!”

“How the fuck does he know!”

Jesy grabbed the picture out of his hand, turning it around to tap on it to get his attention. “Jesus, Lou, look at him, you can’t _not_ be a hit. I’d vote on your faces alone,”

He snatched the picture back, waving it around in mock protest. “We’re supposed to be getting votes for dancing, not, not…” He finally focused on the picture and _okay_. He held it still in his hands, glossing over the very long legs, very exposed chest and head full of messy curls.

Huh.

He shook his head, stomping his foot once again. “No! I will not be mocked by a pretty face. This is absolutely ridiculous. I can’t believe the network agreed to this.”

Lottie looked at him with a pitying smile, which was 5% pity and 95% on the verge of splitting into an ear to ear grin. “This is already the best season ever.”

“Shut up.”

Louis looked at the picture again before letting is float down to the floor, where he collapsed with a sigh.

 

*

 

Harry eased out of his car, slinging his workout bag over his shoulder. He wasn’t really sure what to bring, so he brought a mix of yoga and running gear. Just to be safe. 

He strolled up to the door and stood there momentarily, debating on whether he should knock or not. They knew he was coming right? He opted for a solid knock and simultaneously pushing through the door, and ran smack into a hard body that promptly landed on its arse.

Harry scrambled through the door, throwing his bag aside and offered a hand. “Oops! I am so, so sorry,”

Louis jumped to his feet without his assistance, but grabbed his hand to shake it anyways when he was fully stood up. “Hi, Harry Styles. Not the best first impression, you know.”

Harry shook his hand back, feeling the embarrassment curl up his neck. First, because he just demonstrated how much of a clumsy oaf he was. And second, because Louis Tomlinson was so incredibly fit. And he was just a clumsy oaf in front of him. “I’m not really known for being very coordinated. But, yes I’m Harry Styles, though I guess you know that already,”

“I do, and I also know that you’re not going to accomplish much in those painted on jeans. You can change back there,” He thumbed towards the back of the room, watching Harry nod and haul up his bag once again. “And, I’m Louis Tomlinson. My goal is to make you _very_ coordinated.”

Harry nodded again, hurrying to the locker room in the back.  As soon as the door shut behind him, he slumped against it, breathing shallowly.

“He’s so hot, what do I do?”

“Better not let him hear that, his ego is already the size of a house.”

Harry jumped about three feet in the air, clutching at his heart. He spun around, facing a mischievous eyed blonde, who was grinning wildly as he towel dried his hair.

“Well that’s embarrassing,”

Blondie shrugged, throwing the towel into a laundry basket in the corner of the room. “Nah, Lou’s the star of the show. This happens all the time.”

Harry decided if Blondie could be mostly naked, he may as well start changing as well. He unzipped his bag, pulling out a pair of capri length sweats. “Yeah, but like…I can’t be attracted to my partner, that’ isn’t right,”

Blondie finished meticulously styling his hair, only to plop a snap back down on top of it. He moved to stand in front of Harry, holding up a finger. “Aha, but it’s _exactly_ right. Chemistry is the key to any successful ballroom dance pairing. The more real it is, the more it will reflect when you dance.”

Harry contemplated this as he slipped a vest over his head. Hmm. That did seem like a valid point. Plus, it’s okay just to look, right? He wiped his clammy hand on his sweats, holding it out with a grin. “Thanks mate. That actually makes a lot of sense. Harry Styles, by the way,”

He waved off the hand, offering him a fist instead. Harry bumped it with a laugh. “Always trust an Irishman, Harry. And I’m Niall Horan, I host the show. I look forward to seeing you guys out there, lotta buzz around you two already.”

Harry paled, swallowing slowly. “Oh god.”

All he got in answer was a loud cackle and a pat on the back. “See you around Harry.”

Harry steeled himself. He could do this. He danced with beautiful men all the time.

Right.

 

*

 

Louis paced the length of the studio, contemplating song choices and the color of Harry’s eyes… No! What?! He walked over to the mirror and gripped the barre, leaning his forehead down to stretch out his back. _No_. There were no thoughts about green eyes. He was just a normal looking bloke. With luscious pink lips, and—

He heard the swing of the change room door and flicked his eyes up at the mirror. Fuck. And collarbones. He had collarbones that were tattooed and out in the open for everyone to see. Louis squeezed his eyes shut. Stop it.

He straightened up and turned around, leaning on the bar as Harry cautiously made his way over. He looked down at his sweats and back up at Louis expectantly. “I wasn’t sure what shoes to wear?”

“Let’s forgo the shoes for now; we’ll add them in later. We’re just going to start off with the basics today.” Louis peered down at his pigeon toed stance. Jesus. Terrible for dance and even worse for Louis. He found it oddly endearing. He met Harry’s eyes again, who was staring at him with an attentive and focused look. Louis would have shivered, but that seemed a bit dramatic and a little too much for day one.

“I think we should start with choosing the music. What about one of your songs?”

Harry furrowed his brows, tugging on one of the long loose curls falling out of his headscarf. “Err, I don’t know. It’s a bit of a dick move to use my own song, isn’t it?”

Louis shrugged, popping a hand on his hip. “Lots of musicians do it on the show. Plus, it’s a sick song.”

Harry smiled at that, still absently playing with that damn curl. “That’s really kind of you to say. But, I don’t think I’m comfortable doing that right now.”

“Alright, we can save it for another dance. So, what do you like? We’re starting with the fox trot, which can be a little bit formal and a little bit playful, but always classy. The Rolls Royce of dances if you will,”

Harry pulled out his phone, scrolling through until he perked up at something that caught his eye. “What about Michael Buble?”

Louis nodded, motioning for Harry to come stand in front of him. “That works and you’ll definitely have Nialls’s vote, he’s his biggest fan.”

Harry stood there helplessly until Louis grabbed his hands, placing them in position and firmly got his own hold on Harry. He stared down in-between them, shaking his head at the amount of room that was left for Jesus, and pressed Harry closer to him.

He bit his lip with a blush, his fingers twitching in Louis’ hand. Louis’ eyes fixed on his.

“Follow my lead.”

 

*

 

 The rehearsals over the next week went seemingly well; Louis was not only pleasantly surprised that Harry was a quick learner, but he was also unpleasantly surprised at how flexible Harry was. Not that it was needed at all for the fox trot, but Louis had found him in the studio stretching one morning before practice and Louis was forever going to have the downward dog position tattooed behind his eyelids.

He had first thought that this idea was completely ridiculous, but even he had to admit their chemistry was incredible. And one thing that Louis knew from all of his years of dancing is that chemistry usually transferred into smoking hot sex. Which was not the thing he needed to be thinking about as he watched Harry get fitted for their first set of costumes.

Harry could have been respectful and wore a shirt, and leaving his dress pants unbuttoned surely wasn’t necessary, but he just chattered on with Caroline as she adjusted his hem like he wasn’t making Louis sweat like he was stuck in the middle of the Sahara.

“What’s your face doing?”

Louis turned around, finding his sister and Niall in the hallway grinning like Cheshire cats. “Pardon me?”

Niall narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer. “Your face is doing a thing. L said it does a thing when you’re drooling over someone,”

“Yeah, he goes all clenchy.” She pointed at his cheek as it twitched, against his will he might add. “See, that was it. The jaw clench. Like he’s thinking about something he shouldn’t. Probably Harry naked, if I were to guess,”

Louis felt his jaw flinch again. Bugger. “He practically _is_ naked, so really, I don’t need to think about anything.”

Niall peered around him. “He’s got slacks on, he’s half covered,”

“Did anyone ask you Niall? And don’t you both have jobs to do, piss off.”

Lottie tugged on Niall’s arm. “See, he’s getting defensive. We better leave him alone to stew about this.”

Louis turned his chin up at them, “You’re both more annoying than Grimshaw, and believe me that is a feat.”

He turned away from their bellowing laughter and was thankful for small miracles when he saw that Harry was fully suited up. He was bouncing back and forth on his feet, a disgruntled frown on his face. He turned his pout on Louis, pointing at this foot. “The heel on these are—“

Louis strode over to him, counter pointing at his discarded boots. “Don’t even say they’re too high; look at the ones you’re sporting every day.”

“I knowww, they just feel weird. I need to get used to them.” He turned around and shook his bum at Louis, which okay, his dimple reappearing once more, heel dilemma already forgotten. “These coattails are sick, I feel proper fancy,”

He reached over and grabbed the top hat off the shelf and adjusted it on top of the loose curls he had taken out of his headscarf earlier. He turned around with wide arms, “So, what do you think?”

“I think it’s extremely unfair that you can pull off an assortment of headgear. But, it’s good. You look good.”

Oh god, was Louis doing the face thing right now? He really hoped not.

Harry removed the hat from his head and leaned over to put it on Louis’, who quickly darted out of the way, waving his hands. “No way, I don’t do top hats,”

“Why not, you would look good in it, come here!”

Harry grabbed onto his wrist to pull him back and plopped the hat on his head. He spun him around, still keeping a loose grip on him. He met his eyes in the mirror, a tiny smile on his face. “See? You’ve got uh…great bone structure.” Louis arched an eyebrow at him. Harry figured he was allowed to continue his spiel. “Very old Hollywood. Maybe you were a movie star in a past life,”

Louis stepped out of his hold, jumping up onto the dressing table, crossing his legs. He flipped the hat around in his hands, cocking his head thoughtfully. “Do you believe in that stuff? Past lives and all that?”

Harry slipped out of the jacket, carefully hanging it back on the hanger. “Yes.”

And that was it. He didn’t elaborate, just continued to remove his costume and change back into his normal clothes, but at least behind the partition this time, thank god. Louis thought about the way his life had played out, how not making it through X-Factor got him where he was today.

Harry stepped back out, partially buttoning his shirt yet again. Louis handed him his bag, ignoring the buzz in this veins when their fingers brushed against each other.

“Yeah me too. I’m a big believer in fate myself.”

 

*

 

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous before, not in all his time spent on X-Factor and touring in front of thousands of people. He was about to dance in front of people. _Actual_ people. And his mother and sister, who were both holding sparkly, can’t miss ‘Harry dance your arse off’ signs.

He thinks he’s going to be sick.

They were all waiting backstage, excited murmurs and laughter surrounding them, but all Harry could hear was the thumping of his own heart.

Louis slid up beside him, placing a gentle hand on the small of his back. “Everything alright?”

“No, I—“Harry’s eyes widened as he reached out to grab onto Louis’ arm. “ _Why_ is Simon Cowell here?”

Louis gave him a confused look, following his gaze to where Simon was mingling with the other judges; Nick Grimshaw and Eleanor Calder. He brought his eyes back to Harry’s, still slightly perplexed. “Well he does run the show, plus he’s a judge on the panel this year,”

Harry’s initial panic was increased two fold. “What?! But, he was a judge on X-Factor, and now people are going to think he’s going to favor me, just like they did on X-Factor, oh god, this is so bad.”

“You were on X-Factor?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to be confused. He blinked down at Louis. “I kind of won X-Factor,”

Louis instantly perked up, giving him an excited push. “No way! I tried out years ago, I was complete shit though. Wow, you must have been ace, now I’m sorry I didn’t watch; I kind of held a grudge after I didn’t get through. You know how teenagers are,”

Harry stared at him. He hoped Louis couldn’t feel that his hair was standing on edge. “That’s very…like; imagine if you had gotten through.”

“Oh, I don’t ever imagine that Harold, I was awful, trust me. Small world though, isn’t it?”

Harry swallowed a few times; sure that one of lumps was his heart. “Unnervingly small.” He sent a cautious look in Simon’s direction again. “Do you think I should be worried?”

Louis grabbed the hat out of his hands and fit it on his heat, adjusting the curls around it. He stepped back to check him out for a moment, giving him a wink. “Simon? No, he knew you were in the casting line up. Now, Eleanor, she’s a hardass. Impress her, and we’ve got this.”

…

And they did.

As soon as Harry stepped out onto the dance floor, Louis felt the instant shift in his confidence. He was clearly born to entertain.

He kept his back straight, his smile beaming, and softly crooned the lyrics into Louis’ ear, “Someday, when I’m awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight.”

Louis would have preferred the quick quick, slow slow mantra instead of Harry’s velvety smooth voice pouring into him like a beautifully aged red.

They were met with a standing ovation as they made their way over to the judges table, Harry steadfastly ignoring his mother and sister’s rowdy cheers.

Nick was first, and he looked like he was about to bounce right out of his seat with excitement. “I wasn’t sure about this whole man on man thing to begin with, but bring me more men! You two were simply sizzingly, but also watch that heel, Harry. You want to be light on your feet, and saucy between the sheets, that’s my mantra anyways. I’m going with an eight overall.”

Simon shot him a look that clearly went over his head, or maybe Nick was excellent at ignoring him, because Louis was certain those eyes could burn right into your soul. He focused on Harry for a moment, and dare Louis say a fond look passed through his eyes. Maybe. “Sharp, clean lines, though Nick was right about the footwork, go a little lighter the next time around. I must say, your dancing has improved tenfold since X-Factor, Harry. It’s a seven from me.”

Louis refrained from rolling his eyes, but dug his fingers into Harry’s sides to get the ‘Simon is an arsehole’ message to him. A seven, honestly.

Eleanor gave them both a once over, before simply raising her paddle. “Nine.”

They both took a bow and hurried off stage, Louis jumping into Harry’s arms when they reached the greenroom. “Holy fuck, you smashed it, Harry!”

Harry spun them around once, before placing Louis back on his feet. He held onto his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “ _We_ smashed it,”

Louis tipped his head back with a shout. “Dream team!”

Jesy threw him a dirty look as she passed him on the way to the hall, dragging Mr.Bean behind her. “Pipe down; it’s only the first show. You haven’t won yet.”

Louis bounded over to the couch, flopping down with his hands behind his head. “We’re going to win.” He pat the seat next to him indicating that Harry join him so they could watch the rest of the cast dance.

Harry sat down next to him, watching him type something into his phone. Louis shoved it back into his pocket with a broad smile. “I hope you’re ready for the after party.”

 

*

 

Harry learned on the limo ride over to the rooftop bar they were currently lounging on, that after every live show, an after party followed. He didn’t know if this was going to bode well for him and his growing crush on Louis. Because alcohol and Louis were two very dangerous things when combined.

Harry had come to this conclusion as he watched Louis grind with Jesy and Leigh-Anne on the dance floor, and he shouldn’t have looked as good as he did. It had to be illegal. There were skintight jeggings and a sleeveless vest plastered to his body, and he kept licking his lips and meeting Harry’s eyes every other time that he did it, and Harry needed to turn into the vodka ice sculpture.

It would cool him down and also put him into a coma most likely, which would be perfect right now. He turned away and slid into a booth, smiling over at Lottie as she slid in across from him.

He held up his glass to hers, clinking them together. “Cheers,”

She grinned, so much like Louis (there was no escape) and took a sip, placing the glass on the table and twirling it between her fingers. “You guys were amazing out there. Lou is an incredible teacher,”

“He really is.”

She picked up the glass again, contemplating her next words. “So, you’re interested in him, yes?”

Harry straightened up, nearly knocking over his own drink. He fumbled with it, wiping the table with his shirt sleeve. “No! I mean, we’re working together. We’re professionals. No. NO. Nooo. Nope.”

She finished off the rest of her champagne before sliding out of the booth. She pat the top of his head, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “I thought so.”

And just as one Tomlinson left, another replaced her. Louis leaned his chin on his elbows, a dopey smile on his face. “Hello Harold, my sister wasn’t giving you a hard time now, was she?”

Harry shook his head, maybe a bit too adamantly, which he tried to cover up by distracting them with two more drinks he confiscated off a passing tray. “Not at all, just congratulating us on a job well done,”

Louis took the drink and downed it in one go and somehow managed to get another one to replace it in record time. He wagged a finger at Harry. “Don’t buy into those sweet, innocent eyes. She will try and throw you off your game. Evil little minx.”

Harry chuckled, toying with the fraying red string on his wrist. “Noted.”

Louis seemed satisfied with that answer, maneuvering around in the booth so his knees were up against his chest. His linked his hands around them, his eyes seeming to catalogue Harry’s face. “So, what were you doing in LA?”

“Downward spiral,”

Louis sipped his drink, smacking his lips. “Sounds fun,”

Harry went back to pulling on loose string on his bracelet, shaking his head. “Yeah, not really.”

“Why?”

His lips pulled into a frown, his eyes steadily focused on the pattern of the material in the booth next to Louis’ head. “I came out. I didn’t know how to deal with the aftermath. Hence, the downward spiral.”

Louis’ pursed his lips, a little smile forming on them a moment later. “Everybody likes boys, Harry.”

Harry giggled, finally feeling the tension leave his shoulders. “I don’t think that’s 100% true, Louis,”

Louis curled a finger at him, motioning for him to come closer. He braced his hands on the table, leaning over. Louis met him halfway, lips ghosting over his ear.

“Well I do.”

And a second later he was gone, leaving Harry with a thumping heart and a pool of heat in his stomach.

 

*

 

The next week brought the jive, which logistically should have been a disaster with the combination of Harry’s long and deer like limbs, but as it turned out, his legs were their best asset (and maybe his as well, but really between the hair, tiny little bum and chest that he was constantly showing to the world, Louis really couldn’t pick one).

Nick declared them the shows hottest item to date after Harry told them why they chose their song that week – “I love Swingers!” – To which Louis had to quickly correct him – “The movie, he means the movie!” -  While Simon slapped a hand over his face, and Eleanor looked properly scandalized, but still stuck with her nine rating.

They lost Ed that week, which Louis wasn’t surprised about, nor was he surprised that Harry had befriended him immediately, exchanging numbers and kitten war stories. That was apparently a thing.

Week three was one of Louis’ favorite dances, the Paso Doble, and Harry did an outstanding job playing the part of the bull, to which Louis will forever be haunted by images of Harry in devil horns. They went for a Gossip Girl theme this time, where Harry took on the part of Chuck Bass, and Louis really thinks he should stop listening to his suggestions because they were becoming bad for his health.

 Sexual health, that is.

…

The weather was unnaturally warm for some reason, so Louis made the offer for them to practice at his house, because he had a pool, and pools were useful in hot weather. This was not at all a ploy to see Harry in the least amount of clothes as possible. No.

He arrived with a bright smile and equally bright swimming trunks, which were going to leave very little to the imagination once his t shirt came off.

 Louis was instantly full of regret.

“Wow, Louis your place is incredible. I didn’t even know pools existed in merry old England,”

He had given him the tour of the house, watching with an amused smile as Harry drooled over the kitchen he rarely used, ending up out on his terrace, looking down at the sparkling turquoise water that was beckoning to them.

“Money can truly buy you anything, Harold. Fancy an afternoon of lounging first?”

Harry’s shirt was already coming off before he could answer yes, running towards the pool to cannonball in. He emerged out of the water, tossing his hair back like he was bloody Tarzan or something, and wiped the water out of his eyes so he could meet Louis’. “Are you going to join me?”

Louis was _full_ of regret.

…

Louis kept a comfortable distance at first, until Harry started a splash war, which led to him climbing onto his well-muscled back to dunk him under. Harry was choking with laughter when he came back up for air, groping blindly at Louis, which was really Louis’ chest, and he couldn’t tell if Harry was doing it on purpose or not, but there were a few lingering grazes that made him think otherwise.

He finally caught his breath, bobbing in front of Louis with an exasperated grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to get rid of me,”

Louis feigned a look of shock, “Never in your wildest dreams. We’re going to win this thing.”

 Harry answered with a non-committal hum. He eyed Louis up, the wheels in his head turning. “You know what we should do?”

Louis could think of a lot of things they should do, yes. All of them involving Harry’s thighs wrapped around his head. “I truly don’t, enlighten me, young Harold.”

“So, obviously you’ve seen Dirty Dancing,”

Louis groaned, giving Harry a playful shove. “You’re going to make me do the [lift](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnzhZx7LRig), aren’t you,”

“Yes.”

Louis shrugged, spreading his arms open. “You do me, then.” Whoops. Well the wording of that got away from him, but it was out there now.

Harry bit his lip, and Louis wasn’t sure if that was due to his choice of words, or if he was figuring out how to go about this, but either way he looked sexy doing it. “Are you sure?”

“Harry, you are a friendly giant of spaghetti arms and legs, this is the less dangerous option, trust me.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Whatever, we’re in water; I think it’s quite safe.” He back up a bit, wriggling his fingers, “Okay, go, I’m ready.”

Louis got a bit of momentum going and launched himself into Harry’s awaiting hands and was taken by surprise when he got him about halfway over his head before losing grip. He cursed under his breath, pushing Louis back. “Try again.”

The second time was a charm; Harry actually got him above his head with little problem, and his arms weren’t even shaking, which meant he was really strong, which meant he could probably pick Louis up in other scenarios, and it was at that moment he realized the proximity of his crotch to Harry’s mouth, because Harry had tilted his head back to look up at him.

Louis quickly dove out of the hold and stayed under for a moment to hopefully drown out his dirty thoughts.

When he surfaced, Harry was doing a little fist pump. “Second try, not too shabby. Should we do one more?”

Louis noted the afternoon sun starting to dip behind the trees and nodded his head towards the house. “Actually, I’m a bit hungry.” No lie there, except it wasn’t for the pasta he had intended to make.

Harry shook his hair out, pushing it off his forehead, his eyes roaming over Louis’ face. “I could eat.”

Louis turned to climb out of the pool, wondering if it was just him or if Harry intentionally made everything that came out of his mouth sound sexual.

…

Harry had offered to cook, mostly because he was ready to molest every surface of Louis’ kitchen, but Louis had insisted that he could make pasta; and fairly good pasta at that.

Harry reluctantly resigned but he still got to chop up the vegetables for a salad and choose one of the many vintage wines out of Louis’ collection, so that appeased him immensely. Louis had never seen a person so enthused to julienne peppers before. Harry Styles was one of a kind.

They sat out on the terrace to eat, exchanging stories of dates gone wrong; Harry’s laugh getting more raucous and his lips more luscious with every sip of wine he took.

The sky had started to turn a purple pink, and the fairy lights Louis had strung up in the yard had just switch on, and when Harry grabbed his hand to tell him how much fun he had been having over the past couple of weeks, the moment was getting a bit too romantic.

He finished off his glass of wine and stood up a little too fast, scraping the chair against the floor. He placed a hand on the table to steady himself. He needed to work off all this restless energy. He picked up their plates and empty glasses, waiting for Harry to follow him inside. He tossed a glance over his shoulder. “I have a practice studio downstairs, just let me get these in the dishwasher.”

Harry waited for him to get rid of the dishes, and once again fell into place behind him as they marched down to the studio.

Louis flicked on the lights, but set them to a dim glow, moving over to the iPod dock he had set up in the corner. He had on loose shorts and a vest, and Harry in his saran wrap like black jeans and a t-shirt, which would work fine. Except Harry pulled his t shirt off and threw it to the side, bending down to roll up his jeans. He stood up straight again and wandered to the middle of the room, watching Louis with dark eyes.

“It’s movie week, so I choose one of my favorite dance scenes to go with my favorite dance of the season. We’re going to do a version of the Tango from [Moulin Rouge](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s12XiAOtjcg).”

He pressed play on the iPod and spoke about the background of the tango as he inched his way over to Harry, every step slow and determined.

“The tango is supposed to tell a story about love, romance, desire, sex. Maybe it’s a one night stand, maybe it’s a torrid love affair, but whatever it is—“

Louis stepped in front of him, reaching out to link their fingers and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist. He suddenly yanked him forward, pressing their bodies flush together from chest to hip. He peered up at Harry, whose eyes had gotten a little bit darker. “Whatever it is, it’s always passionate. Sensual. You have to _feel_ the music.”

The needy violin sounded out in the room as Louis led them into their first series of steps. Louis spun him out, and when he came back, he plastered Harry’s back against his chest, holding him there with a palm on his stomach. He felt his muscles flutter, trailing his fingers up until he fit them loosely below Harry’s neck, thumbs grazing his collarbones.

Harry’s cheeks were flushed. Louis could feel his pulse beating a mile a minute, but he looked like he was barely breathing.

He walked them this way for their next series of steps before maneuvering Harry so he was once again molded to Louis’ front. They glided to the rising tempo; faces so close Louis could almost taste the heady cherry undertones of the wine they were drinking merely an hour ago.

His hand dropped to the small of Harry’s back, moving them just that much closer, feeling the beads of sweat that were pooling there, and also feeling the slight bulge in the front of Harry’s god forsaken jeans.

Louis sucked in a breath and stilled himself. Pep talk time. Do not make it noticeable that you noticed, and do not throw him to the ground and rip those stupid jeans off and finger him until he forgets his own name.

Instead he dipped him down and brought him right back up again, and the song finally ended. They broke apart, their chests heaving, and eyes playing the avoidance dance. The next song came on, and Louis scrambled back to the iPod, shutting the Pussycat Dolls up instantly. He did not need their taunting right now; he already wanted to loosen up what little buttons were on Harry’s person right now.

He ran a hand through his hair, massaging the back of his neck as he pretended to be very interested in choosing another song. “That was good, really good. It’s going to be good on the show. You were good.”

Louis used good way too many times in that conversation. _He_ was not good.

He kept flicking through songs to find something neutral, and aha. Finally. Jason Mraz. No sexy feelings there.

Harry was fully clothed again when he turned back around, and repeatedly dragging a hand through his hair. “That was, yeah…good. I should probably get going.” He paused at the door, leaning into the frame like he needed it for support. “Thank you though; today was brilliant.”

“I can walk you out—“

Harry shook his head, “I think I can find my way out of your mansion. See you on Monday, Lou.”

He waited a few beats until he was certain Harry was gone, and lay himself down in the middle of the floor.

That was the single most sexually frustrating day of his life.

Louis had two choices. He could have a sadness wank, or he could look up old videos of Harry on YouTube.

He went with the second choice and crawled over to his phone, typing ‘Harry Styles X-Factor’ into the search bar. He clicked on the first one because what better place to start than his audition.

He smiled at Harry’s cherub like innocence and Simon’s indifference. Neither of those things had changed all that much. The camera panned out and Louis got the full view of Harry and he felt a twinge in his gut. He pressed pause on the video, blinking his eyes in shock.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute…”

He sat up straight, clutching his phone in his hand as he stared at it in disbelief. Harry was the _boy_. The boy he saw in line with the curls and _that_ smile.

“Holy shit.”

…

His sadness wank that he was going to have anyways was replaced with a ‘fate is a sneaky bitch’ bottle of wine.

He didn’t know what to make of this information.

But he knew that it had to mean something.

 

*

 

Harry had thought the tango at Louis’ house had been rife with sexual energy – Harry will lie and say that he made it home without so much as putting a hand on his dick. _He will_ – but for whatever reason the performance they gave to the live show was even worse. Or better?

No worse, Harry thought.

Because this time his mother was looking on in some sort of shocked awe, his sister looked slightly disturbed, Grimshaw was fanning himself, Simon looked vaguely surprised, which was a new expression, and Eleanor was a lovely shade of pink.

Harry thinks maybe going shirtless was a bit much. But they did get ten’s across the board, so maybe it was okay.

The after party was in full swing when he arrived a bit later than usual, having talked his sister down from her shock. “Are you sure you guys haven’t had sex, because that dance told me otherwise.”

His mum smacked her on the shoulder, “Gemma, honestly.”

She pointed accusingly at Harry. “I want _him_ to be honest. They’re having sex.”

Harry kissed them both on the cheek before sending them on their way. “No one is having sex.”

Not that he needed that depressing reminder.

He scanned the club looking for Louis, finding him leaning up against the bar chatting to Niall and Lottie. He took a moment to admire what Louis was like; all curves in the tight denim that was complemented with a fitted light blue t-shirt, and he was doing this thing with his hair that earned him the nickname ‘Wolfie’.

He was truly ruining Harry’s life.

And as if Louis had some kind of Harry radar, his eyes found Harry’s across the room and he instantly brightened, waving him over.

He swallowed down two shots as he pushed through the crowd, finally seeing those dazzling blue eyes through the break in the crowd.

“Harry’s here!”

He went and stood next to Niall, taking the drink Louis offered him with a cheers. “I’m here. How’s everyone?”

Niall hooted, slapping Harry on the back. “I think we’re all in a right state after that performance. The sexual tension was incredible; you could have cut it with a knife,”

Harry coughed into his fist, meeting Louis’ curious eyes. “Thanks, I guess?”

Niall’s eyebrows almost rose off his forehead. “You guess? Harry, mate, you guys damn near melted the camera’s.”

Harry laughed into his drink. “It was _pretty_ steamy.”

Niall flicked him on the ear. “Alright, if you’re going to mock the tango, at least tell me if you’re shagging,”

Lottie stuck her fingers in her ears, “Ew, ew, ew, that’s my brother!”

Louis had remained strangely quiet throughout this exchange, his eyes still trained on Harry. Or, the column of Harry’s throat to be exact.

Then just like that, he mumbled an excuse about having to go find Zayn, leaving the three of them staring at the back of his disappearing head.

Niall shrugged. “I’ll take it that’s a no.” He grabbed both Harry and Lottie’s hand, giving them a tug. “Let’s go cut a rug.”

…

Harry hadn’t seen Louis in quite some time and even though he had no reason to be, he was getting a bit worried. He really hoped he hadn’t overstepped some kind of boundary between them, though what that would have been, he had no idea. Perhaps it was the constant state of heart eyes, or even worse, Louis had finally caught him looking at him like he wanted to devour him. Which either looked insanely desperate or serial killerish, he couldn’t be too sure.

He did another walk about of the party without much success and figured he might as well call it a night.

On the way to the parking lot he spotted Zayn and Liam huddled in a corner and looking very much like they were about to kiss. Interesting. He darted his eyes away, and pouted all the way to his car. If they could hook up, why couldn’t he man up and just tell Louis what he was feeling. Or, show him.

And as luck would have it, leaning against his truck was none other than Louis Tomlinson himself. Harry stopped in front of him, a flash of concern crossing his face. “Hey, there you are, I was wondering where you went. Did you need a lift home?”

Louis reached out an arm and twisted a fistful of his shirt in his hand, slowly pulling Harry closer until their lips were inches apart. He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips. Harry suppressed the moan he had been holding in since the day he laid eyes on him.

“I think _we_ should go home, so you can lift me up against a wall and fuck me until I can’t see straight. Or vice versa, I don’t’ really care at this point.”

Harry’s whole body shivered. “Oh.”

“I know. Get in the car.”

Harry didn’t think it was scientifically possible to get into the car at the speed he did, but he did it and his reward was Louis undoing his zipper while kissing him breathless, before darting down and wrapping his lips around his dick.

He even had the nerve to wink.

Harry was going to die a happy man.

…

Louis soon changed his mind about wanting to be fucked against any available wall, opting to drag Harry to his bedroom, his mouth trying to cover every available sliver of skin.

“I just remembered your love for Dirty Dancing,”

Harry panted into his neck, nibbling on his overheated skin. “Yeah, what about it?”

Louis walked them towards the bed until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He eased down and patted his lap, which Harry happily climbed into.

Louis ran his hands up and down Harry’s thighs, his eyes transfixed. “Been wanting to touch these since the first day I saw you.”

A picture of the actual first time Louis saw Harry flashed in his mind. Well, okay. Maybe not the first day. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen at the time.

Anyways.

Harry followed the movements of his hands, which now slipped underneath his shirt. He skimmed the warm, soft skin on his sides, moving his hands up, up, up until Harry had to raise his arms.

He pulled the t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor, fitting his arms under Harry’s so his fingers curled over his shoulders. He leaned him back in his lap, leaving a path of hot kisses up his chest, pressing his tongue into the hollow of his throat. Fuck, Harry even tasted amazing.

He brought him back up, humming against his lips. “How did I do?”

Harry wiggled his hips, pressing in closer to Louis so he could get the hint. “Amazing, amazing, right up there with [Swayze](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pouIFiaIig#t=138). All that was missing was Solomon Burke crooning in the background.”

Louis slid a hand between them, palming over the outline of Harry’s cock that was straining in his jeans. “I can put it on if you like,”

“I’d rather you put it in me.”

Louis scooted back and flipped them over.

“Gladly. This is one dance I’m especially good at.”

 

*

 

Harry woke up groggy the next morning, frowning at the constant poking he felt in his shin. He peeled his eyes open, finding a grinning Louis stubbing his big toe into him.

“Do you always wake people up like this?”

He rolled onto his back, giving it a stretch. Louis followed him, resting his chin on his chest. “No, but you look so damn cute when you frown.”

Harry stared up at the celling in thought. Straight to affectionate. Hmm. He thinks he likes that. He brought a hand up to run his fingers through Louis’ rumpled hair, looking at him questioningly. “Is this—was this a one night thing?”

Louis’ eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

Harry let out a sigh. “I don’t know, is this a normal thing?”

“No actually, it isn’t,”

Harry’s hand stilled in his hair, “What?”

Louis toyed with Harry’s necklace, watching him carefully. “I saw you at X-Factor.”

“I thought you said you didn’t watch it?”

Louis shook his head, shuffling up onto his knees. He took a hold of Harry’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “No, I _saw_ you. When I was waiting in line,”

Harry’s mouth formed an O. He looked confused again a moment later. “But, how did you remember?”

“Umm, maybe I watched some of your old videos on YouTube in a moment of desperation.”

Harry slapped a hand over his mouth, a honking laugh shaking through him. “Louis, oh my god,”

He swung a leg over and settled into his lap, holding his shoulders down. “You want to hear this story or not?”

He settled down, going pliant under Louis’ hands. Louis leaned down to peck his lips. “I saw you in line and I thought to myself ‘he’s got what it takes to be a star’”

Harry’s eyes softened. “Lou,”

“No, no, listen. People come and go on the show, dancers hook up with their partners, they hook up with other stars, in fact Zayn and Liam—“

Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah, I know. I saw them about two seconds away from jumping each other last night.”

Louis smirked. “Must have been something in the air,”

“Touché.”

Louis shook his head again. “No. This - you and me? This wasn’t something in the air. This was fate.”

Harry latched a palm around the back of his neck, his eyes sparkling. “Would you say it’s the dance of destiny?”

“No, I would not, that is a terrible dance related pun, Harold.” He finally met Harry’s lips, kissing him like they had always been doing this. “I will say if I hadn’t tried out for X Factor, certain things never would have happened. I wouldn’t be doing what I love, and I wouldn’t have had the best partner ever,”

Harry looked tickled pink. “You think I’m the best partner ever?”

Louis thinks Harry is the best anything ever. He was already at that point. “I do. We’re going to win this thing.”

Harry didn’t look convinced. “You keep saying that,”

Louis grabbed his wrists, pinning them firmly to the bed. “That’s because I’m always right.”

 

*

 

He was.

After three more weeks of dancing, backstage snogging, athletic sex, more backstage snogging, being caught by Niall, Louis’ sister and a very pleased Nick Grimshaw, they won.

They had brought the house down with their emotional waltz after Harry finally allowed Louis to make use of one of his songs, ‘Don’t Let Me Go’, that had Louis ending the dance with a whisper in his ear, “I always hold on.”

The judges each came along to give them a congrats handshake, with Simon stopping in front of Louis with a knowing look. He startled him with a hug, and even more with what came out of his mouth.

“I always knew you guys would hit it off. It was just a matter of time.”

He gave him one more firm pat on the back before leaving Louis standing there with his mouth hanging open.

Harry hooked his chin on his shoulder, his hands sliding around his waist. “What was that about?”

Louis didn’t really know himself. Was Simon real? Was he a guardian angel? And here all these years Louis kind of thought he was the devil.

“I honestly don’t know, but we should probably get married.”

Harry stepped around him, loosely looping his arms around his neck. “Okay.”

Louis’ eyes almost bugged out of his head. “ _Okay_?! I was only joking, Harry.”

He shrugged. “Why not? We’ll tell people it just kind of happened,”

“Seriously?”

Harry started to walk them towards the exit. What, were they going right now?

“Sure, we can honeymoon in LA; I have a lovely house there that could soon be _our_ house.”

Louis could not believe him.

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

Harry looked over his shoulder, that same cheeky grin that he had on the first time Louis saw him.

“No, I’m just a big believer in fate.”

 

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to tumblr user annie-banks for the inspiration xo


End file.
